


Erised

by kaysaysthings



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fred Lives, Fred Weasley Lives, Fremione - Freeform, HP: EWE
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 09:32:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4174827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaysaysthings/pseuds/kaysaysthings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Mirror of Erised was only supposed to show them their deepest and most desperate desires. Now the mirror is cracked and shattered, but who comes out of it will change the next series of events within the Wizarding World.  [Hermione/Fred]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Erised  
** Chapter One

* * *

 

The mirror had been known to do one thing only—show any willing witch or wizard their heart’s desires. It should have done nothing more and nothing less. While some had the willpower to walk away from the image of their desires, others could not. Some wasted their lives away **,** sat in front of the mirror, while they lived a full life in their heads.

The wizard would go mad with desire the longer they sat there. Then it became unmanageable to leave the mirror, without causing their minds to come undone. Their perceived reality was something entirely different from actual reality, the mirror causing their minds and personalities to become split down the center. The victim of the mirror would forever walk the thin line of their world of desire and a world without, causing intense hallucinations. They could no longer function around other wizards in their society, becoming social outcasts, and were constantly at war with their own minds.

One would think that when George Weasley walked towards the mirror, he was the most content man in the world. The only object of affection that was shown in the mirror was his reflection, something that many wizards would have dreamed of seeing--one’s self as it is. To see nothing but yourself in the mirror meant you didn’t want for anything **,** and your hearts desires had been sated for the moment.

A wise wizard would remember that a war had just occurred. While doing repairs to Hogwarts, the young Weasley had found himself in front of a mirror that did not show his reflection. The reflection staring back at him found himself with the left ear intact, and while George moved—hoping that the reflection would move with him—it stayed static, staring at him. A cheeky grin was on the young man’s face.

It took him moments to realize that his _reflection_ was not himself at all and as the figure stepped to the side he saw himself standing next to his twin brother.

Sitting in front of the mirror, legs crisscrossed, sat George Weasley. He had stayed there for hours, while others had continued to fix up Hogwarts. He made no move to get up as the mirror lured him closer and closer **,** as he watched the reflection in front of him. They couldn’t have a conversation, but to see the light in his eyes was just enough for George.

That was the way that Hermione had found George. She was told that the whole family was looking for him and began looking as well. They assumed he was off to mourn for the loss of his friends and especially his twin brother. When she quietly entered the room she noticed his reflection **,** and the dried tear stains on his face.

“George, what are you—“

George cut her off and quickly motioned for her to come forward, “Hermione, you’ll never believe it…” he trailed off more to himself than her.  

Cautiously, she walked closer until she recognized the mirror in front of her. Harry had taken her down here after first year when he discovered the mirror. It was after Christmas when he introduced her to it, Dumbledore had moved it and during the night the trio had found it once again. Harry wanted one last look at his parents, before promising to give it up. While Hermione was intrigued by the mirror she began her research, looking for anything she could get her hands on to explain the phenomenon that was _Erised_. She had forgotten about it over the years, like the rest of the world should have—like Dumbledore would have liked.

She walked closer to it, until she could see her own reflection and George’s together. She sat next to him and sighed as she realized her own desire had manifested. Beside her sat a young man with red hair, identical to the boy sat next to her—except he had his ear back in place. She saw herself and George in the mirror’s reflection, with Fred sat in between them.

“I can see him,” George told her **,** and reached his hand out to touch the glass. He never looked at Hermione, his gaze was fixed upon his twin **’** s—he was mesmerized by it. George didn’t think that he would see him ever again after the battle.

“I do too—“, Hermione choked out, swallowing back tears.

“You see him too?” George asked excitedly. He finally turned his face from his brother’s and onto Hermione’s. She sat much like him—with a defeated look upon her face and small tear stains across her cheeks.

It hadn’t been long since the last battle and she dreamt of the horrible sight every night, seeing his smiling face one last time and hearing his heartfelt laugh before the wall blew up.

_She watched the rubble fall over his body, the stone encasing his entire form, but it was too late. She fought against her instinct as it urged her to run after him, throw the rocks away and pull him free._

_Hermione knew that she was needed elsewhere, helping Harry and Ron. Her face contorted in anguish as Ron and Harry pulled her from the scene. Tears streaked down her dirty face, when they pushed her on through as they ran through Hogwarts courtyard._ _Her Anguish turned to anger and the mountain troll that had been released was no match as she cast spells at it and ran through the remains of Hogwarts. Harry and Ron not far behind as they outran spiders and fought death eaters along the way. The courtyard was filled with dueling wizards as flashes of red, white, and green illuminated the atmosphere._

_Their school was slowly crumbling to the ground around them and a cold unsettling feeling fell over the school. When they stopped in front of the bridge they could see dementors covering the sky as they drew nearer to the castle._

_“NO!” Her voice rang out when she saw Greyback biting into Lavender’s shoulder. She sent a powerful stinging hex his way, throwing him off of the young girl’s body. A large orb dropped from the sky, bashing him on the head and Professor Trelawney stood above on a balcony with a knowing smile on her face._

_The tears had finally fallen when they moved down the steep mountainside of Hogwarts and down towards the dark lake. Her dry sobs forced her away from Harry and Ron as they crept towards the small shack._

_When they were finally able to go to their dead and bury them, she stood at the entrance of the great hall in shock. She couldn’t move when she saw his body and the way that George was draped over him, the look of horror etched across his face. Molly was whispering to him as she smoothed her son’s hair one last time._

_She had to cling to Harry as he brought her over to mourn. She sobbed against him, screaming “No!” against his chest. It was worse than the cries and the screams she had let out at Malfoy Manor when she was being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange._

_Her cries filled the great hall, but everyone stood unmoved by them—it was just another casualty of war—desensitized by what they had just gone through._

_No one had noticed the once shy bookworm sobbing into Harry, as she mourned for the chance she had never gotten. She cried for every moment she had seen him and not touched him, for every moment she had touched him and not held him. She blamed herself endlessly and thought of every scenario; how she could have done something different, made a different move, run down a different passage and saved him._

_Hermione clung to Harry as he stood and watched the grieving family. His face showed that he was deep in thought while his best friend cried over someone they both loved—he suspected that her love was different. Hermione clutched his jacket tightly, her face pushed into his shoulder as he rubbed her back in a soothing manner._

_Hermione was jostled and moved over when Ginny came running from the group of Weasley’s and into Harry’s arms as well. Harry had squeezed his girlfriend into his other side, rubbing her back as well while he looked on at the Weasley family. Ron was crying over his brother’s body and Percy was trying to hold George up now, his face held a look of pure and utter terror. She finally stepped away from Harry, letting him focus on his girlfriend and the Weasley family._

_She walked away, busying herself by checking on the survivors until it was time for them to finish what Tom Riddle had started all those years ago **.**_

Now she was forced to confront a ghost that she had yet to put to rest. She hadn’t even tried to put the fresh memory away in a tight little box—an impenetrable unfeeling box—to tuck away deep into her memory where every other event of the war went.

Fred was staring back at her with a light in his eye and he looked the same as he did in battle, right at the very end. In the mirror she could see Fred reaching out to touch her, and then his hand was holding her reflections hand. She could see his hand attempting to squeeze her own and it made the constricting in her chest worse. When she looked down she saw that her hand was on its own, resting lightly on her thigh.

“It’s impossible to see the same thing, George, it’s different for everyone—that’s what Dumbledore had said **...** ” she trailed off softly. She had felt her heart restricting in her chest, the tears begged to be let out and that made her angry. “It’s an illusion—a terrible illusion!” she spat out.  Her tone had changed and the boy in the mirror’s brows furrowed with confusion. It made her more upset to see that the mirror was playing with her emotions—acting as if he could really have emotions.

He began to stand up when she quickly moved from her spot to turn away from the mirror—staring at the thing only made her heart ache more. She recalled Dumbledore’s words, trying to comfort herself. “It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live”. Her ‘what ifs’ did nothing but leave her mind with disdain **,** and her heart filled with multiple regrets.

“He’s looking at you though,” George replied and stood up slowly as well—except he looked from the mirror and back to Hermione. She pressed her fists against her sides, half-moons appearing against her palms as she squeezed her hands tightly into a fist.

“No, he’s not,” Hermione replied bitterly.

The man he knew in the mirror had begun staring at her longingly.  He moved around her in the mirror, trying to bring her attention back to him—the pleading look on his face almost more heart breaking than that on George’s. His twin couldn’t stand to look at his desperation anymore.

“Hermione! Just look at him,” George demanded from her, “if he’s not real then it won’t matter.”

“I can’t, I’m sorry,” her voice broke as she rushed from the room. She slammed the door and crossed her arms afterwards, walking away in quick strides. Her knuckles turned white as she squeezed the fabric of her sleeves tighter. She had never seen the mirror do that, nor had she seen any magic as powerful as that—it was downright cruel what could be shown to those who had loved and lost.

The hairs on her neck began to stand up as she made her way past the entrance to the old classroom which held the closet that led to the dungeon and the mirror itself. Dumbledore had made sure to keep it closed off, but the enchantments that had been around in in their first year we’re gone. No one was looking for the Mirror any longer—it had just been a coincidence that George found it.

The palms of her hands pressed against her eyes as she walked briskly through the castle, trying to calm herself before seeing the rest of the Weasley gang. There was no way for her to explain herself to them—no one had questioned her about her outburst during the battle of Hogwarts. They didn’t even question her on the day that the buried Fred.

_Her tears and sobs were only one of the few more pronounced at the funeral, but the loudest cry belonged to George. Hermione's tears were nothing compared to his, and her heart not only ached for Fred, but his twin as well. Nothing she had felt for Fred would ever compare to the love shared between the Weasley twins. The only one besides Harry that comforted her was Bill Weasley. He had silently kept his hand on her shoulder when Harry stood with Ginny. She couldn’t blame Harry for not remaining at her side—he was where he was truly needed._

_Bill_ _kept his large hand on her shoulder throughout the ceremony **,** and after she had exhausted herself **,** he had let her lean against him **;** after the casket had been laid in the ground, he picked her up and brought her back to the burrow. The rest of the Weasley’s met up at the burrow and didn’t say anything as Bill guarded the room, sitting on a chair outside of Fred and George’s old room._

_Harry had promptly thanked him and peeked inside. He settled one of her nightmares and tucked her in once again, and told her to sleep and rest. She didn’t move for almost a week, until Professor McGonagall had asked for volunteers to help clean up Hogwarts so they could open once again. Hermione was the first one to rise that day **,** and sat in the corner away from the rest of the family—looking at George was the hardest for her, but over time of having to wake up with the family she found herself moving closer to him each time. The pain of losing Fred was fresh, but the want to comfort his brother was winning out._

Hermione was now out of the halls of Hogwarts, but George had stayed behind. He looked back at the mirror once again **,** and saw the look of hurt and sorrow on his own face, though the face was not his own.

“I miss you, Fred. I think Hermione does too. I know this isn’t you though, but I knew you fancied her for a while—too noble to act on it. I’ll try to take care of her,” he let out a long sigh, “I don’t know how to be without you here, Fred. I’m just…me now,” George spoke softly to the mirror.

The reflection stared at him back and soon George had nothing to do but turn his back on the mirror and walk away from it. He wasn’t ready to leave his brother, but with the way Hermione had left—he needed to get to the bottom of it. Fred had never mentioned anything more than having a small crush on her during their sixth and seventh year.

Her actions made him think differently.

He made his way out of the room **,** and with one last longing look towards the mirror, shut the door and marked the door.

George planned to come back tomorrow with fresh eyes and some more research on the strange things that had happened during his stay with the mirror.

As the door clicked shut, he entered a hallway that would lead him far away from this part of the castle, and the mirror slowly began to vibrate. The metal clinking against the stone floor and wall behind it **,** and soon a small crack appeared at the bottom of the mirror.

The vibrations continued, and the crack began to grow until it branched off into three separate sections. It dragged itself across the mirror, disfiguring the red headed figure that was still left standing, watching the door.

The mirror stopped vibrating, but the cracks remained along the glass and all of Hogwarts stayed undisturbed.

The red head began to touch the glass experimentally. In a rage of frustration he began to bang his fists against the glass until one large piece from the top of the mirror fell off and shattered on the ground. A pink puff of smoke rose from the shattered mirror piece and thunder roared through the halls and on the outside of Hogwarts.

The workers were already heading to Hogsmeade while others left by the Floo Network, so no one could hear the loud banging against the mirror.

 

\---

 

McGonagall sat at her office desk writing the new letters of acceptance to future students when thunder clapped through the sky and lighting lit up the night. She had yet to re-decorate Dumbledore’s old office, so the windows were bare of curtains.

“Oh my,” she murmured as she raised her head to look at the lightning. Even a few of the portraits we’re taken back by it, including the one of Albus **,** which hung to McGonagall’s right side next to a book case and his very own phoenix.

Everyone had gone home for the day **,** and it was just her and a few teachers who elected to stay on the grounds, along with Hagrid. She was also working on getting Hagrid’s wand privileges back, so that he could finally be allowed to do magic. Though she suspected over the years that he was quite capable of a few things, but she never spoke a word to the Ministry or another soul.

She ignored the pestering feeling that was drawing her away from her work, because there was nothing to fear anymore. She dipped her quill in ink once more, until the bottle slowly began to vibrate against her desk andgrabbed her attention. Her quill and body began shaking as the bottle of ink slipped from the table and fell onto the ground, ink splattered over the floor and some of the books began to fall from their shelves.

“Albus,” McGonagall cursed under her breath and marched through the castle. She held onto the wall as the shaking became worse. Normally she had Albus to rely on—he had been known to put things in the castle that shouldn’t be there **,** and it seemed like this time would be one of _those._ She regretted not paying attention more to his ramblings.

The lightning lit up the sky once again **,** and soon she could see a trail of light pink dust leading towards the third floor.

“No, no, it cannot be—he locked that away for years. No one has looked for it in almost a decade. Not since Voldemort…” McGonagall trailed off, “that has magic beyond even _my_ years,” she was astonished even by herself for thinking that something like _that_ could happen.

She rushed into the empty classroom, walking briskly through the various doors and entrances that would lead into the small dungeon like room. She threw open the door that contained the Mirror of Erised. McGonagall covered her mouth in shock when she saw the shattered bits of glass were scattered around the floor. Red hand prints covered the edges of the mirror and were even on the ground in front of it.

The pieces were slowly disappearing into smoke when she heard a pitiful groan coming from the other side of the room. She had suspected the shaking had something to do with the mirror, but now her suspicious had been confirmed. The mirror had brought someone back, and she didn’t know how long the magic would last; if it had _really_ brought someone back.

Albus suspected early on that the Mirror had become unstable with its magic **.** Tamsin Blight, who had created it, promised that it would do its purpose once in its lifetime before it broke.The mirror had great magic—her magic—running through its glass and frame. If the mirror fell into the wrong hands, the consequences would be severe.

She drew her wand in a flash **,** and quickly moved through the dungeon and studied the hand prints. They had been smeared around frame of the mirror, it looked almost as if someone had climbed out of it and fell to the ground. Something had broken free and she didn’t know if she was ready to face it.

Whoever had been there last unleashed their heart desire, and it wouldn’t be long for them to come back to collect it.

Walking forward she kept her head held up high and as she rounded the corner of a pillar her wand dropped in shock, it clattered on the ground. She brought her hand up over her mouth and her eyes widened.

Fred Weasley’s body was on the ground, blood rushing from his hands—staining the floor red underneath them. His body was sprawled out on the damp ground passed out and he was breathing.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Golden Trio and Ginny sneak around St. Mungo's when McGonagall looks like she may have something to hide.

Erised  
Chapter Two

A storm had overtaken the area surrounding the Burrow; lightning struck their homemade Quidditch pitch more than once. The sky was a violent shade of dark grey, similar to the eerie colour during the Battle of Hogwarts. The lightning struck, and every detail of the clouds became visible. The entire Weasley estate became illuminated for sporadic moments through the night.

The roar of the thunder interrupted many of the inhabitants sleep, including Mrs. Weasley. Molly had pulled her colourful patchwork robe on and shuffled through the house, checking on each of her children, then was bustling down into the kitchen by five in the morning. Her children were just beginning to stir, and Molly wanted to get a head start on making breakfast for them all.

Hermione was quick to wake when she heard screams coming from next door, the thunder was the last thing she was aware of. Gripping her wand tightly in her first, her knuckles white, she sprung from bed and threw open the door. She pointed her wand out towards the hallway, checking before rushing to Harry’s room. She gripped the door handle and pushed against the door, she pushed again, the doors stuck sometimes in the old house; she gritted her teeth before slamming her shoulder into the door. The door banged against the wall, the sound echoing as she pushed it open.

“Harry!” she cried. She saw Ron hovering over Harry’s bed, his hands pushing gently on his friend’s shoulder, trying to wake him.

“He won’t wake up, ‘Mione!” Ron shouted.

She crossed the room quickly, and put her hand against Harry’s forehead. She was certain, “...he broke into a cold sweat during his nightmare. Ron, go and get me some water and—“

Ginny rushed into the room and kneeled on the opposite side of Hermione, replacing Ron after he stood. Ron left the room with a commotion, the floorboards creaking under his feet and a crash could be heard when he reached the bottom of the steps. “He’s going to be okay,” Hermione said reassuringly to Ginny as she stroked his hair, “he’s had these before—when we we’re on the run, you know?”

Ginny nodded and silently looked over her boyfriend’s frame, “I hate this bloody war, look at what it’s done to us,” Ginny whispered. Hermione could only agree, the damage had been done and nothing was going to save them this time.

“Harry,” Ginny whispered multiple times, as she began to caress his cheek. His eyes opened with a fright and his body became rigid, but Ginny quickly explained where he was and who was here. Hermione quickly fled the room and stopped Ron from entering; she knew that Ginny would be able to care for him by herself for now. Harry needed her at the moment, and she needed a big mug of coffee.

She had been taking dreamless sleep for the past two months after experiencing a nightmare so terrible that her own screams had startled her awake. She would dream of the night Bellatrix tortured her, and she felt her mind becoming undone once again. She had learned to put a silencing charm around the room, never wanting to disturb any of the others in the house.

Harry had gone without nightmares until the past few days. His demons were slowly beginning to catch up with him, and Hermione knew that soon Ron would be right there with them.  
She moved through the hallway and down the steps towards the kitchen. She watched Molly Weasley as she furiously cut up potatoes, and conducted the kitchen food and equipment into submission to make breakfast.

Hermione pulled a cup down from the cupboard, and quickly filled it with coffee and cream before sitting down at the table. She pulled one knee up to her chest, placing her foot on the bench beneath her.

She watched as Mrs. Weasley set the table and wanted to offer to help—wanting to feel useful— but she was never allowed. She would be sat down with a tender look, and told that she should rest and save up her strength. She knew that cooking made Molly feel useful though; being a mother was part of her and in that she found comfort, by comforting others.

When George came from his room, he sat down next to Hermione; her grip on her cup tightened and she looked away from him. Hermione had yet to look at him for more than a few seconds at a time, it was too hard to, without trying to burst into tears. It wasn’t his fault though; she would always chastise herself for thinking such a thing.

“George!” Molly called out in surprise. “You’re down dear.”

He had hardly left his room, but when he did, it was to help Hogwarts and visit the site where he had last been with his twin.

“Yeah mum, I’ve just got a feeling today—had to be down here,” he spoke softly and poured himself some pumpkin juice.

Arthur joined the rest, and soon Ginny and Harry had appeared from his room, hand in hand like always. They all sat quietly around the table until Molly insisted that they dig in. Neither Ron nor Ginny had a problem eating. Hermione only took a few bites, and she saw George only eat some porridge. Harry looked as if he’d throw up if he ate anything more than some toast. Hermione knew she wouldn’t be able to keep it down, after a year of barely eating it was hard to eat more than what she was used to.

“How is the Ministry doing?” Hermione asked.

“They’re naming Kingsley as the new Minister. He’s going to be reforming the Ministry of Magic, and most of us are positive we’ll be doing better things and moving on soon,” Arthur said as he cut his pancakes.

“That’s wonderful, but are they going to be getting rid of what happened under Voldemort’s watch?” Hermione questioned.

“Snatchers are no longer a thing, along with a few of their other departments. We’re reforming Azkaban as well and the role that Dementors play in everything; they’re setting up a separate department just for dementor regulations. The Ministry could no longer use them, even if it ever becomes corrupted in the future.

“How wonderful,” Molly said excitedly.

“It is,” Arthur concurred, and dug into his breakfast once more.

“Are we going back to Hogwarts today?” George asked suddenly. Hermione could tell he had been thinking hard about it since he had sat down though. His demeanor made him look as if he was away in thought.

“Actually, we were going to go to St. Mungo’s. Lavender’s in the hospital and Ron wanted to go see her. We also need to check on a few others,” Arthur supplied. Ron’s ears turned red at the admission which made Hermione grin softly.

“Still have a thing for Lav’?” Harry teased and nudged his friend with his shoulder.

“Shut up,” Ron hissed out, “It’s not like that—she just needs someone, alright?” Ron insisted.

Hermione smiled wider and quickly shoved a spoonful of porridge into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Ronald, just admit that you like her. She grew up a lot, and so have you—it’s alright you know, to like someone.” Hermione reminded him.

“Both of you now?” Ron whined, and the trio looked at one another with sad smiles on their face. This was how it was in school, but now it was over—everything was over.

“Of course both of us! We don’t do anything without one another,” Harry insisted.

“You really don’t. What did McGonagall say your second year?” George asked out loud. He sat with a perfect posture and made his voice higher, “You Three! Why—why is it always you three?” he mimicked and it made the others laugh. He began laughing as well, an eyes closed and belly tickling laugh. He then turned to look to his left “Right Fr—“

It stopped everyone from moving as they watched realization cross George’s face. Agony was the only word to describe the emotion that had crossed his face, as his body visibly stiffened. When he moved to get up, Hermione’s hand shot out grabbing his arm.

“George, please…please just stay,” she whispered softly. She squeezed his wrist in comfort and in desperation to keep him there.

He didn’t move an inch as he stared at her, she still couldn’t look at him as she held her grip tight around him. She was busy staring at the jar of jam that was in front of her.

“Why? You can’t even face me?” George began with a start, but her hand remained upon his wrist. “You couldn’t even look at him!” He shouted towards her and she began to shake.

“I can’t and I’m sorry that I can’t. I tried, but I’m not there yet George. I’m not ready, I tried to be, but I’m weak.” Hermione sniffed out.

“What’s she talking about?” Harry asked quickly.

“The mirror—I don’t know what it was—just this mirror I found. It showed me him then Hermione found me, but I saw Fred, Harry!” George exclaimed.

“Is he talking about Erised?” Harry turned to Hermione to ask. She nodded as her upper lip quivered. Molly and Arthur were lost in the conversation along with Ginny, but Ron knew. He had seen the mirror as well in their first year.

“I told him that it wasn’t real, but he thinks the reflection saw us. We saw—we—“

“We saw the same thing. He was there and he kept trying to get her attention, but she wouldn’t look at him,” George growled out and looked away from the table.

“Dears, maybe you should stay away from that. If it was in the castle, it was only because they haven’t moved anything yet. Some things at Hogwarts are dangerous,” Molly insisted.

“No! You don’t understand, he was there. I felt it—I remember when he died. I couldn’t feel him anymore, and now I feel him. Just last night I woke up, and I knew he was there somewhere,” George said persistently.

“You just miss him,” Molly moved over to her son, and pulled him into her arms. “we all miss him, Dear”

“No, you don’t understand, I can feel him,” George cried against his mother’s shoulder. His hand now in a grip around Hermione’s. Her sniffles didn’t die down either, and she found herself leaning against him, rubbing his arm in comfort.

“The mirror only shows you what you truly desire. I’m sorry George,” Harry said gently.

“I think I want to be alone,” He mumbled into his mother’s shoulder and dropped Hermione’s hand. He quickly left the table, retreating back up the steps and into his room. The room went quiet, and Harry’s eyes went to Hermione. She was slowly wiping the tears that had built up around her eyes. She quickly looked away from everyone, not willing to meet their eyes.

“Come on, we should get ready,” Ginny said quickly, and moved over towards her best friend. She pulled her up from the bench and led her towards their shared room. Hermione felt guilty, crying over someone who probably meant more to Ginny than her. They hadn’t had a chance at anything, but Fred had been her brother for far longer than even being Hermione’s friend.

After a few mumbles of apologies, Ginny quickly pulled away to look at her friend.

“Why are you apologizing? We all lost something, and others lost more. We’re in this together still, alright?” she said.

“We are,” Hermione agreed and nodded her head.

They separated and began to get dressed for the day. Hermione had pulled on a light cardigan over a tank top and her muggle jeans. She was self-conscious of her arms, the vicious words mudblood carved into her skin, and the bruises and cuts she had gained from the war. She didn’t want any looks of pity. She put her hair in a messy bun, and her curls around her fringe fell down, framing her face.

She had washed her face, and gotten ready to meet the family at the fireplace. Everyone was ready to travel, it was July so none of them wore their cloaks.

“Come now, dears,” Molly corralled them towards the fireplace, and each of them used the Floo Network, one after the other.

Hermione emerged from the green flames, and brushed some of the soot off of her sweater; she moved out of the way for Ginny and Harry to come through. Ron was already walking towards Lavender’s room, while Mr. and Mrs. Weasley asked about the Longbottoms.

“Which way did he go?” Harry asked when they had gotten themselves situated.

“This way,” Hermione nodded with her head towards the hallway on their left, and they began walking after him.

“Do you think he’ll admit he still fancies her?” Ginny asked.

“No, but if she admits it to him first, then he might admit it to himself,” Harry laughed.

Hermione nodded along with him and smiled, “Hopefully he can handle the traits that she gained from being bitten by Greyback,” Hermione pointed out.

“Oh right, hopefully, if she did inherit the full traits, then she’ll be able to find some peace with him,” Ginny said sadly. They knew the trouble that Bill had ran into after being attacked. He didn’t turn into a werewolf, but he held a lot of the same traits that they held. He became irritable closer to the full moon, and would become harsher than normal. His face was marred, and he had become a shadow of a man that he used to be, until Fleur had brought him out of his depression. Hermione had gone to their wedding, and there wasn’t a happier couple in all of England.

They rounded the corner and saw that Lavender sat up in bed in her regular clothes.

“Hello,” Ginny said softly, interrupting Lavender and Ron as he sat on her bed. Flowers and cards were spread around the room.

“Hi, how are you three?” Lavender asked politely.

“We’re doing okay, best we can. What about you?” Hermione was the first to speak and took residence in the chair next to her bed, bringing it closer. It was no secret the two girls didn’t get on during their time at Hogwarts, but Hermione would never have let Greyback kill her.

“I’m actually better, Pavarti visits me when she can. She and her sister are helping with the restoration of Hogwarts,” she said slowly and then with sad eyes she turned to Ginny, “I’m really sorry about him. I can’t imagine what it feels like—he was always a popular one at school.”

“Thank you and I’m sorry about this,” Ginny motioned to Lavenders state.

“Actually, it’s not so terrible. I don’t turn all furry during the full moon. He wasn’t a full werewolf—Hermione, thank you for that,” Lavender said quickly and stuck her hand out and squeezed Hermione’s.

“We may not have seen eye to eye in school, but you don’t need to thank me. I’m just happy you’re alright,” Hermione replied with a small smile.

“I heard Trelawney got him with her crystal ball. Let’s hear you say that Divination is rubbish, Hermione,” Lavender teased.

“I’ll admit, it seems to have grown on me a bit,” Hermione reassured. She remembered their previous fight about the Divination teacher. Sybil had definitely grown on Hermione since their last argument in the common room.

“Ron and Neville subdued him after. It was brilliant team work,” Harry told Lavender.

“Really then? You didn’t tell me that Ron,” Lavender took her hand out of Hermione’s to give Ron a slight push on his shoulder. His ears reached a red color once again, much like it was today at breakfast when they mentioned Lavender.

“He’s modest,” Ginny interjected for her brother and ruffled his hair.

“I can see that,” Lavender smiled.

Hermione looked at the two and nodded her head towards the door. Harry nodded and took Ginny by the hand and began to lead her away from Lavender’s bed.

“We actually have to go check on a few more people, but I’m glad we got to stop and see you first. We’ll come and visit you again,” Hermione reassured Lavender and gave her a slight hug from the angle she was at before moving towards the door with Harry and Ginny.

“Get better soon, I know that Mrs. Weasley would love to have you over,” Harry called back, as they made their way out of the door and down the hall.

They had gone through each of the floors of St. Mungo’s, trying to talk to everyone who had been injured during the battle of Hogwarts. Harry felt guiltier with each passing moment, and every person reassured him that they would give up their life even if it meant that Voldemort would stay gone for good. Hermione and Harry would share a look, and she would grip her wand a little tighter in her pocket when they mentioned him. Hermione had gone over it thousands of time in her head, there was no way for Voldemort to come back after the war. They had destroyed all of the Horcruxes that contained his soul, and there was nothing left for him to hold onto.

When Hermione saw Minerva McGonagall standing outside of unnamed ward, she stopped their group from moving forward and pushed them back into the adjoining hallway.

“Harry, what is McGonagall doing here?” Hermione asked him. They watched as the older witch began pacing outside of the ward, her hands wringing together.

“I don’t know, but it can’t be that bad?” Harry supplied.

“Did she lose anyone during the War? A friend?” Ginny questioned.

“Most of the teachers were unharmed except for a few, but this isn’t even a ward we know. It’s unmarked…” Hermione said as she observed McGonagall.

A mediwitch came out of the doors, and began to talk to McGonagall, who became more flustered as they talked.

“What I wouldn’t give for an extendable ear,” Ginny muttered.

“You should start keeping your invisibility cloak around,” Hermione pointed out to Harry.

“How was I supposed to know?”

“Just let me put an extension charm on all of your pockets,” Hermione argued back. She squinted her eyes, and strained her ears to try to hear what they had to say. McGonagall rushed back through the doors with the mediwitch, and the three moved out of hiding.

“We can always ask what’s back there,” Ginny suggested. “They won’t say no to the-boy-who-lived.”

“Yes, but what if it’s something even higher than Harry level? We’re talking Ministry level. They’ve never had an unmarked ward before,” Hermione thought out loud.

The three began walking towards it, and looked at the Healer’s desk next to it. A young blonde woman was sat writing away, oblivious to them being there.

“Excuse me, miss?” Ginny asked brightly. The woman’s face looked up, and her face softened when she saw Ginny.

“Can I help you three?” She asked.

“What’s back there? We’ve seen one of our professors go in, and we wanted to know if it was someone we should be visiting.” Hermione said formally.

“No one is allowed back there except for Minerva McGonagall. You see a new case came in, she brought the boy back from Hogwarts. I’m sure your Professor will tell you all about it Miss Granger,” The woman supplied, and went back to her work.

It wasn’t a surprise that the woman knew her name. Everyone in the Wizarding World knew about the Golden Trio.

“Thank you,” Harry said as Hermione was going to speak again. Her brows furrowed and she tilted her head as he took her and Ginny by the arms and pulled them back towards the other hallway.

Finally, once a few of the Healers had walked past them, he began talking, “It’s got to be something really important if it’s a new ward and only for McGonagall. We’ll just have to ask her about it. It’s simple?” Harry supplied.

“Harry, what happened to your adventurous spirit?” Hermione demanded playfully.

“I just think it would be a lot easier,” Harry said, “I’ve got enough adventure to last me a lifetime.”

“What’s easier?” Ron asked from behind them. Hermione turned around, and then stepped aside, allowing Ron into their small circle.

“Finding out what McGonagall is doing in the unmarked ward,” Harry said.

“Wicked! I mean, I know we just got done with being on the run and all—not that the Burrow isn’t lively—we need a little something,” Ron said. Hermione nodded in agreement as well as Ginny this time.

“Looks like you’re finally in my old position,” Hermione teased.

“Haven’t we done enough sneaking around?” Harry questioned.

“Mate, it’s not like we’re going to get in trouble or worse, expelled,” He annunciated the last word while looking at Hermione. She scrunched up her face, and stuck her tongue out at him in annoyance.

“I’ll distract the mediwitch, while you three go under with the invisibility cloak. Then, you’ll be able to get in undetected, and unless Hermione is pregnant, then there should be no trouble with you getting in. There’s only certain wards that women can’t get into, and it’s only because of pregnancy,” Ginny planned out as she tapped her finger against her bottom lip in concentration.

“How do we get the cloak?” Harry asked.

“Oi, you’re a wizard or did you forget? Go apparate back to the Burrow and bring it back. I’ll walk with you outside, and side-apparate. Come on,” Ron clapped his hand against Harry’s shoulder and started to push him from the group and down the hall towards the exit.

Hermione looked around and pulled Ginny over towards a bench that gave them the perfect view of the ward.

“There’s nothing that would make McGonagall this nervous. She looked positively terrified,” Ginny said, breaking the silence.

“There has to be someone in that ward, or something that’s unlike anything else here. It’s a whole private ward that they’ve transfigured for just them,” Hermione said and bit her lip as she narrowed her eyes at the doors. If she had looked at them any harder, memorizing each and every bit of them, they would have burst into flames from her gaze alone.

“Hermione! Move,” Ginny hissed, when she saw the older witch holding open the door and talking to one of the Healers. The girls scrambled away, and were far enough they could see her, but McGonagall couldn’t see them.

They watched her sigh and drop the door as she walked out shaking her head. The girls began backing up, and quickly rounded another corner.

“Just act natural,” Hermione ordered and she took Ginny’s arm in her own, and began walking towards the ward. They bumped into McGonagall and quickly apologized.

“Miss Granger. Oh! Miss Weasley. How are you both?” she quickly asked, stumbling along her words.

Hermione looked over at Ginny before answering, “Well. We’re doing well—it’s been hard the last few months.”

“I can imagine,” McGonagall said softly before looking around, “Are your parents around Miss Weasley? I have something of importance to discuss with them.”

“They are visiting the Longbottoms, so you’ll probably catch them there. Is there something wrong, Professor?” Ginny questioned.

“Nothing is wrong dear, things might be a little too right in fact. Your parent’s will probably explain later. I assure you both that things might be looking up,” Her lips pursed together in a smile as she patted both girls on the shoulder before leaving and moving through the crowded hallway. Her robe swishing as she turned a sharp corner and disappeared.

“I really want to know what’s in there now,” Hermione decided and they briskly walked back towards the ward where Ron and Harry stood again, but with the cloak in hand.

“Ready?” Harry questioned.

“As I’ll ever be,” Hermione assured him, and they huddled together, like they had done many times before while Harry pulled the cloak around them.

Harry adjusted the cloak to fit them all before calling out to Ginny, “Are we good?”

“Perfect, I’ll go distract the girl. Come on!” She waved her hand and began rounding the corner. The trio looked at each other before moving forward in sync. Hermione leading at the front with her wand drawn. They watched as Ginny began to talk to the girl, and then she was on the ground, pretending to faint. The mediwitch quickly moved from around her desk and began to assist Ginny.

“Now,” Ron whispered as they rushed forward and pushed open the door to the unmarked ward. They were in and quickly closed the door, before moving around inside. It looked like all of the other wards. White in colour and with many rooms. They moved through the ward, taking a few turns until they came to a door marked private. There seemed to be less staff there then the rest of the room, but when a Healer came out of the room, the trio squeezed up against the wall.

The Healer looked at his chart, and began moving down the way they had just came.

Hermione quickly moved them forward, poking her wand out in front of the door, “Alohomora.”

“If there’s a chess set behind that door then I’m gone,” Ron said quickly causing Harry to snort loudly and Hermione had to turn around to cover his mouth.

“Seriously Ronald?” She scolded.

“I’m sorry, but you’ve got to admit we’ve done this too many times,” Ron defended himself, and she rolled her eyes before turning back around and sticking her hand out to open up the door. She turned the handle and they quickly moved inside. Ron shut the door gently as they took the cloak off of themselves.

They looked around the room and saw that both beds were empty.

“You can’t be serious? We came all the way here for nothing?” Ron scoffed.

Harry shrugged his shoulder, but Hermione moved forward and looked around the room before a smile crept upon her face. She twirled around to see the boys.

“It’s a Disillusionment charm. There has to be others with it though,” she replied as she cast a quick hex towards the space and prodded her wand around it. “Salvio Hexia and Muffliato, I’m guessing?” Hermione said out loud.

“You’re downright scary, you know that? Maybe Kingsley should step down and let you be the next Minister,” Ron said.

“Brilliant though,” Harry said quickly when Hermione turned around to glare at the two. Her eyes widened when she saw that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were behind them accompanied by Ginny and Professor McGonagall.

“You were always excellent at detection, maybe after all you’ll want become a curse breaker, Miss Granger,” McGonagall said.

“I um—“ Hermione was at a loss for words.

“It really is always you three,” McGonagall muttered as she pursed her lips and raised her brows in question for them.

Harry and Ron turned around and quickly backed up, allowing room for the others, and to move away from Mrs. Weasley's scolding gaze. Ginny looked just as ashamed, her father’s hand on her shoulder, though the trio could see the half smirk on her face when she would look away. She was proud of her work.

They only could hope that an explanation would be given to them, but a nagging feeling in Hermione’s head told her they would only get more questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you everyone who has reviewed and or given this kudos. It really means a lot when I get to hear your feedback and constructive criticism. 
> 
> Another huge shout out to my lovely Beta Burrsquee. She is absolutely brilliant and she's like chicken soup for the soul, but writing instead of the soul.


	3. Chapter 3

**Erised**   
_ Chapter 3 _

The trio, along with Ginny, sat on a bench inside the white room, as the Healer allowed McGonagall and the Weasley parents across the invisible wall inside the room. Nothing could be heard on the other side, the silencing charm worked perfectly, and they desperately wanted answers.

“It might just be a friend of Mum and Dad’s,” Ron finally said. He was next to Hermione, with Ginny and Harry on the other side of her.

Ginny gave him an incredulous look as she leaned forward to stare at him. “Do you really believe that, or are you just making it up to make yourself feel better?” Ginny asked. Her irritation was clearly showing now, but it made Harry chuckle softly behind her.

“Oi! At least you could’ve warned us that they were coming. We did our part,” Ron grumbled angrily. The tips of his ears turned red as he stared at the invisible barrier; as if he looked at it long enough he imagined it to open.

“We just didn’t get behind _there,_ ” Harry nodded towards the wall. “You know we’re a year out of school and still getting in trouble with her?” Harry groaned and covered his face with his hand in frustration. They all believed that their time being in trouble with teachers was over, but it seemed that it was a never ending cycle.

“Quiet,” Hermione hissed, “they can still hear us. It doesn’t work both ways.” The group became silent and Ron had paled considerably; they didn’t want to anger McGonagall or worse, Mrs. Weasley. Her temper was the only thing scarier than Voldemort himself, at least to her youngest son, Ron.

The ticking of the clock on the wall became louder as the seconds passed. The red long hand taunting them, until the barrier was disrupted and Mrs. Weasley rushed out of it, tears in her eyes and Arthur right after her. She rushed to her two children, pulled them up into a hug and let out a sob.

“Our prayers have been heard!” she cried out joyfully—her hands gripped her children tightly against her chest, the pressure was almost painful.

“What’s wrong Dad?” Ron asked, he hesitantly hugged his mother back.

“We’re going to owl Bill right away, but I want you to send a Patronus to Charlie and Percy, Alright? Don’t ask any questions yet.” Arthur ordered as he pulled his sobbing wife away from them, and turned down the hall towards the front desk.

Ron and Ginny looked at each other in shock, unable to find the words to express what they thought was going on. They stared dumbly on then towards the doorway, while the hospital buzzed around them—the ward becoming slightly busier than it was previously.

“You heard your mother!” Hermione snapped at Ron, and quickly pulled her wand out of her pocket. “Expecto Patronum,” she called and a white light started to seep out from her wand—the smoke slowly turned into a glistening and sleek looking small animal. Her eyes widened as she stared down at her wand in disbelief once again.

“’Mione, that’s not yours—“

“It is hers, maybe it changed during the War? A lot of things happened,” Ginny said thoughtfully as she knelt down on the ground. The small fox began to wander around the room, moving past the barrier and then back sliding in between Hermione’s legs and over towards Ginny before the mist disappeared once again.

“Tonks changed once. It’s possible,” Harry pointed out. “Don’t be so worried alright? There ought to be loads of reasons for it.”

“I’m not…it’s just odd. It’s not something that happens every day—oh well—Expecto Patronum!” she cast the spell again, and the silver mist reemerged from her wand and sat in front of her obediently.

“Go to Charlie Weasley in Romania. Charlie, come straight away to St. Mungo’s, and be quick!” she called as the little female fox began to trot away, and soon it broke out into a large run. Hermione moved out towards the hallway to watch it.

“I’ll send one to Percy, he may have a heart attack if he sees anyone else’s,” Ginny said as she cast hers. Her beautiful horse slowly came together out of her wand and she gave it quick instructions for Percy to come straight to the ward and it was off, moving through hallways and over healers before disappearing through a wall.

Hermione paced around the floor outside of the room while Ron and Ginny talked about the possibilities for what could be there. McGonagall was still behind the invisible curtain, and Hermione wanted to just peek her head inside. She knew better than to try to breach wards when she wasn’t at her best physical strength.

About a half hour passed, when Charlie Weasley came striding down the hallway and Hermione signaled for him to come in. He was followed by Bill Weasley, and then Percy, and she ushered them all inside.

“Mum is with George, keeps trying to convince him that he needs to be here,” Bill nodded towards the door.

“Do you know what’s happening?” Charlie asked.

“No clue. McGonagall was in there, and then found Mum and Dad. They wanted you all here, so I guess it might be a relative that she found. She’s in there now,” Ron shrugged and sat down again next to Harry. Ginny took a seat next to her boyfriend, and gripped his hand tightly.

“We’re back!” Molly declared, as she pulled George in with her. Arthur walked in right behind her and shutting the door swiftly. George looked ready to escape, and throw himself through the door if he could. Hermione moved through the Weasley’s, and stood next to George, hesitantly moved her hand to grip his wrist.

He didn’t move her off of him, but he also didn’t move to step closer to her either.

McGonagall moved through the wards and charm, shocking some of the boys, and she nodded towards Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

“I’ll remain here, unless you’d rather me not. I’m sure some of them may have questions,” McGonagall explained.

“You’re always welcome to stay Minerva,” Arthur reassured her. He pulled his wand out of his pocket, and slowly pulled the wards down from the place, taking off the silencing charm and then the disillusionment charm.

The disillusioned bed disappeared, leaving a similar bed, but there was a young red headed boy under the covers.His hair was matted and dirty, and his face was unwashed as well; a bandage was wrapped around his forehead and the side of his face, covering his left eye.

Hermione squeezed George’s wrist tighter as her heart slowly stopped. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched the figure’s chest, looking for a sign of movement, and sure enough his chest began to rise and fall softly under her gaze. George began to lean against her, and let out a few whimpers of distress which made his mother quickly moved towards him to hug him.

“Georgie, it’s him,” she whispered lovingly.

Hermione began to shake her head, and back away from the brood of Weasley’s who stared in awe of the figure in the bed. She had dreamt many nights that she would see his body once again after they lowered him into the ground. She had prayed that it was all a nightmare, but this was a cruel joke that life was playing on her.

George moved away from them and towards the bed, his hand moving hesitantly to touch his twin’s chest.

He collapsed against the side of the bed, burying his face in his twin’s limp shoulder and began apologizing quickly for how everything had ended.

Hermione couldn’t breath and began to hyperventilate. Her breathing became quick and shallow as her head began to spin and the nausea was starting to creep into her veins. She leaned against the wall to keep herself up, while the rest stayed put and stared at their sibling’s sleeping figure. Bill quickly pulled her over to a hospital chair, and crouched down next to her.

“Head between your knees, Granger,” he said quickly, and helped her into the position as she began breathing in and out slower.

Harry moved to her as well while the rest of the Weasley’s began to walk towards the bed, surrounding it as they gazed at their sleeping sibling. He rubbed Hermione’s back softly, and spoke sweet words to her, encouraging her to breath and that everything was alright.

“Is this real?” Hermione asked when she finally brought her head up.

“I believe I can answer that for you, Miss Granger,” McGonagall spoke up finally.

She coughed softly, moving her robes around before rolling her shoulders back and facing her audience. “How familiar are you with Tamsin Blight?” She questioned. Hermione’s hand immediately shot in the air, and when she looked around a blush rose under her cheeks. She had not forgotten what it was like to be a know-it-all even after school.

“Miss Granger,” Minerva left it open for her.

“She’s a very famous witch from the nineteenth century. Mrs. Blight was married to a very successful wizard, but she was incredibly successful herself—you see—she excelled in curse breaking and spell casting. Her husband actually proposed sleeping with a well…he proposed sleeping with a man,” Hermione rambled. “She’s also very well known for bringing someone’s loved one’s soul back from the dead. Though her very last circle had gone wrong, and no one knows what happened to her until she died in October of 1856.”

“Very good Miss Granger. If you were still in school, 50 points for Gryffindor,” Minerva smiled with pride.

“What’s this old witch have to do with Fred?” Ron asked.

“She is the creator of the Mirror of Erised. She created the mirror with the intention to lure her husband back. She thought that she could make him see reason by having him see her in the mirror, and then she would be able to trick him into loving her,” McGonagall explained.

“She couldn’t though, he was gay—that doesn’t explain why she went missing though,” Hermione thought out loud.

“Tamsin Blight used the mirror during one of her ceremonies to awake the dead. Her magic became unstable, and when it did not go according to plan, she locked part of death up inside of it. That’s how the mirror has survived so long—it’s also how Headmaster Phineas Niguellus Black came into possession of it,” McGonagall stated. “It was given to Cygnus Black I, Phineas’s father.  Tasmin and Cygnus were friends, and then it came into Headmaster Phineas during his years at Hogwarts and it was stored within our walls. It had never seen the light of day by another soul since its residence until Mr. Potter discovered it.”

“That still doesn’t answer the question. How is it that it’s related to Fred?” Ron persisted.

“Ronald, didn’t you just hear her?” Hermione quipped. “He came out of the Mirror, didn’t he?” she turned her attention to McGonagall, “After George and I had left the reflection there. We both saw the same thing, and the Mirror didn’t know how to handle it,” Hermione rushed out.

“I had assumed that the mirror broke due to Mr. Weasley, so this changes some things. You both saw him? This has never happened before..” Mcgonagall trailed off.

“Our magic is the reason he’s here?” George questioned.

“Yes. His passing was still extremely fresh, compared to others the mirror had helped bring back. Blight herself was once locked inside of it for years, until her death. She died a squib—her magic had been locked inside the mirror for a very long time. During this time, it gained properties much like the Veil. Once she finally figured out how to escape, she passed on and the mirror was given to Cygnus to remember her by.

“I don’t know what you two did, but the magic from your core was enough to destabilize the mirror, and the last thing you both desired was Mr. Weasley. It’ll be as if he never passed on, and the war was just yesterday. He will have much to recover from,” McGonagall said solemnly.

“They brought my son back?” Molly questioned.

“Their magic combined seems to have triggered the Mirror. It was so powerful that it’s long gone now, the only thing left of the mirror is its frame,” McGonagall said softly.

Hermione found herself being pulled into a large, and comfortable hug by Molly. Her head buried against Hermione’s bushy hair as the tears fell freely. Hermione quickly wrapped herself around the Weasley Matriarch, and was squished tighter when Arthur moved to hug them both tightly.

“I cannot repay you enough. You’ve saved my son’s on multiple occasion, but this is something new. You are such an extraordinary witch, Hermione,” Molly whispered against her ear.

Hermione shook her head, and stepped away from them. “I didn’t know I was doing it, or that I’d done it. George deserves more credit than me. He’s extraordinary and you’re my,” her voice broke, “my family—you’re what I have left. I love you all,” tears began falling down her cheeks. “I’d do anything to have you all together.”

“Well bloody hell! You’ve been friends with this witch for years, and you’ve not figured out she can do extraordinary magic? We should’ve contacted her earlier if she can do this,” Charlie broke the silence and the Weasley bunch began to laugh. Hermione and Harry were naturally included.

The healer walked into the room, flipping through his notes before speaking, “Heartwarming and all, but we need to discuss his healing.”

“It is heartwarming,” Ginny muttered under her breath, and Harry quickly nudged her to stay quiet. She sent him a glare then turned to face the Healer.

“What’s wrong with him, exactly?” Percy asked.

“Mr. Weasley here has suffered from a concussion, and damage to his frontal, occipital, and parietal lobes.  We cannot be sure exactly what damage will be caused by this, because we have him in a magical coma. However, we can safely assume that his motor skills will be off, and he’ll need physical therapy.

“He’s got a crushed leg that we’ve looked over and have begun healing it, so he will most likely walk with a limp. He may need a cane until he builds up enough strength again. Now as for his eye, it would appear that his left eye is not responding like the right and we have cause to believe he will be partially blind in that eye.”

“What about his hand? It’s his wand hand,” George asked.

“He will regain full mobility of his wand hand after it heals. He broke quite a few bones that we’ve had to mend. He’ll need help in his daily life though until everything goes back to normal—as normal as it can,” the healer said.

“Of course, Arthur and I will be with him,” Molly said.

“I don’t mean to interject, but we’ll _all_ be helping. Everyone will be able to pitch in when they can. It’s not going to rest on just you and Mr. Weasley,” Harry interrupted.

Molly’s eyes teared up again, and she placed a hand over her heart. She gave Harry a fond look, and pursed her lips in attempts not to cry harder, and she nodded her head.

“When will you be waking him up?” Hermione asked.

“Tomorrow, we think he’ll be stable enough to wake up and perhaps talk. We don’t for certain if he’ll respond, or if there’s going to be memory loss. You all have to be prepared for the worst. I can only allow two of you to stay the night. In case something should happen---let’s just say that the less people the better for him.”

“I’m sorry, but three people are going to have to stay,” Hermione spoke again before anyone could argue with the Healer.

“Hospital poli—“

“They’ve just gotten their son back, and George is not leaving either!” Hermione scolded.

“Your emotions are getting the better of you Miss, think of it from a logical standpoint—it’s a crowd,” he glared.

“Their family has been through enough,” she barked out. “Arthur and Molly are staying here, this is Harry Potter’s family! Think of the negative press the world would give you if they heard you denied the savior the right to let his family be together?” Hermione lectured as she moved closer towards the healer. Her voice rising after every word, and the condescending undertone wasn’t missed.

“Knew she was scarier than Mum,” Ron gulped.

“I didn’t—“

“That’s right! You didn’t think,” Hermione insisted. “This is of the utmost importance. He’ll want to see his parents and brother first thing.”

“Of course,” the Healer conceded.

“Come on, we should go and get things for Mum and Dad to stay overnight with George and Fred,” Ginny said quickly, and rushed over to Fred’s beside to kiss both of her brother’s on the head. She left to the hallway with Harry, and waited outside.

“She’s right, we’ll take care of everything at home,” Hermione agreed, and walked over towards the hospital bed. Hermione leaned down to kiss Fred on the forehead and then did the same with George. She gave Molly and Arthur a quick hug, and as she left, kept her darkened gaze on the Healer.

Hermione was no saint. She had blackmailed the vapid woman Rita Skeeter into writing a better article about Harry, and she had caught her in her unregistered anamagus form in the hospital wing. She did what she had to for the good of her friends and for the world.They wouldn’t have to suffer through reading another article by Skeeter, while she slandered Harry’s name.

It was the least she could do. Harry was her best friend, and he had always protected her in everything that they did. In return she protected him just as fiercely, and remained loyal even while others doubted him.

The other Weasley’s said their goodbyes, and they all waited near the hall of fireplaces.

“Ginny, Harry, and Ron. You’ll be going to the market. I want you to stock up the kitchen with food. I’ll be taking Bill, Charlie, and Percy with me to the Burrow, so that we can clean and prepare it. I’m going to send a pack of overnight clothes for them,” Hermione said.

“Right. Well, let’s get to it,” Charlie said.

Ginny walked into the flames first, and soon was followed by Harry and Ron. Hermione led the rest of the Weasley boys over to another fireplace that could take them to the Burrow. A few people stopped to stare as she led them like a mother goose. The three red head’s quickly following her in a line as she made them all go first into the flames, and then followed them home.

When she appeared through the flames, she gave quick orders for them all to begin cleaning up the place. Bill was to get Fred’s room ready, and to make sure that everything would be easy access for Fred. He was also in charge of reinforcing the protective spells around the Burrow. Percy’s job was to clean the inside of the house and straighten up everything. Charlie was in charge of the outside of the Burrow, including cutting the grass and de-gnoming the garden for Molly.

“What are you going to do?” Charlie asked grumpily. The gnomes hated him, and were quick to bite when they saw him coming; he had handled one too many of them and they never forgot.

“Getting your parents clothes, unless you want to grab a pair of your mum’s knickers,” she rolled her eyes, and Charlie’s face went white.

“Right…” He muttered.

She skipped up the steps, and into Fred and George’s old room first. Bill was already inside transfiguring the bed and cleaning up. She pulled out a pair of his boxers, a shirt, and pants, along with other necessities. She pushed them inside a bag that she picked up from the closet. It was the messenger bag that he had carried with him during his time at Hogwarts.

“You know, mum and dad appreciate this all. Actually, we all do,” Bill stopped her from leaving the room.

She hung around the doorway for a minute until she could face him, “I appreciate all your family’s done for me. If there’s any way I can give back, even a fraction of the kindness you’ve all shown me, I’d gladly do it,” she smiled.

“You’re forgetting that you are family. You don’t need red hair to prove it,” He gave her a small smile, and went back to working.

She nodded to herself before turning away and making her way to Arthur and Molly’s room. She had never been inside their room before, except on Bill and Fleur’s wedding day. It was just as homey as the rest of her place, and a bit mismatched, but she suspected that was the way Molly and Arthur liked it. There was a plethora of small knick-knacks and sentimental pieces throughout their room.

Hermione pulled a dress from their closet along with some clothes for Arthur, and folded them neatly to fit inside the bag. She grabbed their toothbrushes along with other essentials.

_Crack_.

She turned and walked towards the window, and the group had just gotten back from the market with loads of bags in their hands and floating behind them.

Percy had opened up the front door for them by the time Hermione had made it down the steps.

“Blimey Harry! How much food did you get?” Percy asked astonished.

“Enough to feed a small army,” Ginny remarked and began to use her wand to put away their groceries. They floated from their bags and the cupboards opened, making room for the new boxed goods.

Hermione smiled and pulled the bread down from floating away along with: peanut butter, meat, cheese, jelly, and other condiments.

“Tell me that’s not going all on a sandwich. I know you don’t take food seriously ‘Mione, but still,” Ron cried.

“I’ll have you know I’m packing them each a turkey sandwich and peanut butter ones for tomorrow for _everyone._ It’ll be one last thing we have to do. Go grab a large thermos for the pumpkin juice, and one for water,” Hermione commanded as she went to work making everyone a few sandwiches. She packed some chips, salad, and some biscuits in a small cooler.

Ginny began cleaning up the kitchen with Harry, while Ron was forced to help Charlie outside.

“Bill!” Hermione called up the steps. In a few moments he leaned over the banister, looking down at her. “Before you go home, will you please take these bags to your parents? I can finish upstairs.”

“Sure, Granger. Let me just grab my stuff,” He disappeared again, and Hermione quickly penned out two notes and laid one on top of the food and the other on their clothes. She had made sure to keep everything separate so that there would be no confusion. Each had their pajamas, if they elected to wear them, and a change of clothes along with a toothbrush and other small toiletries. She made the bag work for her efficiently by using an extension charm on it.

Bill bounded down the steps and she pressed the bag’s straps into his hand.

“You sure you don’t want to give them these yourself?” He asked.

“Hospital policy says that only relatives to be there after a certain time. I might be family without red hair, but for the hospital’s sake it might help. Though I have a feeling they wouldn’t argue after today,” she shrugged.

“Ah, well we’ll just have to fix that. Take care of yourself and I’ll see you tomorrow,” He leaned down to hug her quickly.

“You too, and tell Fleur I said hello. We’ll have to get together soon,” Hermione smiled. Bill moved towards the fireplace, and shouted St. Mungo’s name before disappearing into the thick green flames. They danced behind him for a while, before settling down and then turning to dust.

The house was spotless and everyone had begun eating, but Hermione needed to do her research. She pulled her purse open, and quickly found a book that would help explain the medical terminology that she didn’t know.

She sat in the living room, curled up with the book. Crookshanks had finally come down from his hiding spot and joined her, rubbing his face affectionately against her thigh as she buried her nose deeper into the book. She pulled faces as she read, and took notes in a small notepad that sat on the armrest of the couch.

The evening turned to night, and the stars glistened against the sky. In a few hours the sun would be coming up, peeking over the hills and the night would cease.

Hermione was passed out on the couch with her book clutched to her chest, and her head rested against her upper arm. Crookshanks found residency next to her curled legs, and her notebook was thrown to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for everyone's reviews and sweet words! You all are seriously so great and a big thank you to my lovely Beta Burrsquee! Without her I'd still be writing and editing this and banging my head against the keyboard.


	4. Chapter 4

**Erised  
** Chapter Four

The Weasley's sat in St. Mungo's, waiting in anticipation for the healers to come back and let them into Fred's room again. Everyone was forced out of the room while they brought him out of his coma, to make sure he was stable before giving him clearance to see anybody.

George paced back and forth, creating a distinct mark in the carpet of the waiting room. The rest of the Weasley's were eating and discussing business amongst themselves. Hermione was sitting in a chair next to Harry, her hand linked tightly in his. Ron sat on her other side and held her other hand while she rested her head against his shoulder

The wait gave her time to reflect on her friendships.

During the Triwizard Tournament, Rita Skeeter had declared that she and Harry were meant for one another. The thought had crossed their minds years ago. Once upon a time, she would have said yes, during her second year. But her miniscule crush left her quickly as she realized that their friendship was deeply rooted in familial love. They had confessed to having similar crushes on each other and laughed it off, extremely happy with how things were now.

The war came and fancying Ron felt right, his strong embrace and his unwavering faith in her kept her grounded. They were what was expected of them, the whole wizarding world was waiting for the day that Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger would get together and declare their undying love. They had been through so much together, but when Lavender showed up at Bill and Fleur's wedding, it faded just as quickly as it had come.

They shared one distressed kiss after destroying a Horcrux and recognized it as strange. It was not a kiss one shared with a lover, instead it felt like if she was kissing a relative.

Hermione and Ron didn't talk about the kiss openly, but came to a silent understanding about it. She loved him and he loved her unconditionally, but the love was not the love of a significant other. It was enough for them and she knew that Ron still had unfinished feelings for Lavender that never left completely.

It didn't matter, because her heart had always felt attached to another from the beginning. Having a crush because it felt right, and one out of obligation was different. After her kiss with Ron, she knew for certain who she wanted to run to-Fred. She planned and calculated in her head as they ran through Hogwarts Castle.

'Fred, I don't know how long we have. I don't know if we'll even have tonight, but I need to tell you that I—I fa-fa-fancy you. I didn't want to die without telling you' she chanted in her head.

When they rounded the corner of the castle they saw Fred and Percy fighting death eaters. It all ended in a bang and she was forced to keep moving.

Their friendship contained an undertone of mischief, and feelings that were far out of bounds than the familial love they should have felt. Ron and Harry would always be her best male friends and best friends over all. She didn't know how he would have felt if she had confessed she fancied his brother first.

She had seen him in a different light during the Triwizard Tournament, the Yule Ball specifically. When she sat crying on the step, Fred had come up and talked to her, after sending Angelina off with George. There were no tricks or pranks, but a real conversation between them. He told her that Ron had been a prat, and anyone could see she was a girl; an intelligent and beautiful girl.

"Family of Fred Weasley?" A female healer asked.

Hermione was startled, and quickly brought Ron and Harry's hands into her lap, squeezing them tightly.

"Yes, that's us!" Mrs. Weasley said quickly, and rushed over towards the healer.

Arthur was right behind her. He stayed close to his wife as he comforted her silently by rubbing her back every so often or squeezing her hand.

"I'm here to tell you that the procedure was successful, and he's been asking for you all. We've had to keep him contained for an extra period of time. It would seem your son is having some speech problems. His voice is going in and out which is expected, but…" the healer paused.

"What?" George demanded.

"We didn't expect to find that his vocal cords were also damaged during the accident. He can speak, but it's faint for now, and he's developed a prominent stutter. We expect that he'll have it for the rest of his life."

"We can work with a stutter," Ginny said quickly, and got up from her seat to comfort George.

"I don't bloody care if he stutters! When can I see him?" He asked quickly. Hermione found herself feeling a surge of pride as he took control of the situation.

"I can bring you all back right now. Who's immediate family?" the healer asked.

"All of us," George said confidently.

"All of you? That does change some things—there's so many of you. Give me one minute," She rummaged around in her pockets for a few moments before pulling up her wand. "I'll just send a quick message for the mediwitch to expand the room. Your boy deserves his whole family there," she smiled, and quickly sent her patronus through the ward. "Come on. They'll have it done by the time we get back there."

They all began walking back towards the room slowly. She kept a hard grip on both of the boys as they made their way past the others room, and finally were being herded into Fred's room. It was larger than the last time they visited, and held the whole family comfortably.

"We're going to have to ask you all to be very calm. Is this clear?" another healer said.

"Of course," Molly smiled, "please just let us see our little boy."

With a nod from a healer, the others pushed the curtain back, and Fred was lying propped up against his pillows. A goofy smile was spread across his face, and George quickly moved past all of the healers to be next to his twin.

He was covered in blankets that covered the various tubes and cords that were around the hospital bed, and he had a fresh bandage wrapped around his head and eye. The Twins were desperate to see each other, just as they had been when George was injured. More than a year earlier, their positions had been reversed with George was lying on the couch at the Burrow with his ear severed.

"How are you feeling?" George questioned.

Fred looked around the room before locking eyes with Harry, and motioned for him to come over with his good hand. Harry looked around before letting go of Hermione, and making his way through the Weasley's until he stood on the other side of his bed.

"Ha-Ha-Harry, I th-think I'm th-the new man tha-tha-that li-liv-lived. Key-keep the b-boy t-title," Fred said softly.

"You can keep the whole title, you deserve it," Harry laughed. "It's good to have you back, Fred."

"And, you thought my joke was bad!" George accused his twin. "At least I came up with 'I'm holy', but this is a whole new low."

"I-I-I'm r-r-rus-rusty," Fred laughed, and ran his hand over his chest and throat.

"You've got the whole family here too. Mum and Dad have been going off their rockers waiting for you," George said and pointed out their parents who stood near the foot of his bed. Molly had tears in her eyes, but tried to keep it together as her son gave her a smile.

"I even came all the way from Romania," Charlie called out from behind Hermione.

"We're even graced with the golden trio, they're in high demand today. Should've seen 'Mione yesterday. She went absolutely mental on a healer, I'm surprised she didn't send a letter home to his mum for disobeying her," George teased.

"Mi-Mi-Mione's he-here?" Fred questioned.

Ron quickly nudged Bill and Fleur aside, and pushed Hermione to move next to Harry. She sent him a quick glare before scooting closer to Harry, and leaned down to take Fred's good hand in her own.

"Hey there," she said softly.

"He-he-hello."

"I only may have scared the healer a little," she reassured him.

"P-pr-probably d-deserved i-it," he laughed.

Hermione moved to step back, so the rest of his family could come and talk, but his hand remained firmly in hers—his grip unyielding until she stood next to him silently. He gave her a weak wink before turning his attention to Percy, and asking what happened.

"Rookwood blew up a wall behind us and you got buried. I went after him after we had moved you to a safe place," Percy sighed.

"Fred, what do you remember?" George asked.

"Dar-Dar—Darkness," Fed sighed.

"Mate, the explosion killed you. It's been two months since the battle," George sniffed. Fred's face contorted in confusion, and looked around the room at everyone before leaning his head back against the pillow and closing his eyes tight.

"I-I di-di-died?" He questioned.

"This may be too much for Mr. Weasley to take in. We may have to ask you all to leave," The healer cut in.

"N-no-no!" Fred shouted, his voice clearly cracking. "I-I wa-want to he-he-hear it, I ne-need to he-hear it."

"Fred, look at me," Hermione commanded. She pulled his face softly to look at hers when he wouldn't meet her gaze. "We have the rest of your life to talk about this. Let's just get you comfortable with information little by little. No one is going to lie to you, right?" Hermione looked up at the rest of the Weasley's who were nodding their heads in agreement.

"We just need you to slowly sink into it Gred. Besides you don't want Hermione or Ginny to hex a healer. We'll just get them back with some new pranks—you can't be a lazy tosser now. You're going to have to go back to work," George teased.

"I'm sure we can even coax McGonagall into coming to Sunday dinner to tell you what happened," Percy said quickly.

"Mc-Mc-McGon-McGon," he sighed out, her name had become too hard to say. Hermione quickly squeezed his hand affectionately. "Wha-what does she ha-ha-have to do-do with th-th-this?"

"She found you," Hermione replied.

"Wh-where?"

"Hogwarts. It's a rather long story, but I promise that we'll fill you in once we get you home," George reassured him.

"When are we allowed to take him home?" Molly asked.

The healer began to look through some papers before pulling up a piece of parchment, and scanned the document with their quill. "We'll have to train a few of you to know about some physical therapy exercises to do inside the home, but you can take him by the end of the week. We're going to do as much physical therapy with him this week as we can, but you'll have to bring him in every other day."

Fred let out a loud whine, "Ph-ph-phys-physical ther-ther-therapy? Do-do I get a hot he-he-healer?" Fred waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Everyone rolled their eyes at his question, and George barked out a laugh.

"Sorry mate, but I don't think that's going to happen. I'll try to see if I can dress a pretty bird in a nurse costume though," George winked. "Muggles have quite the knack for their Halloween costumes."

"Boys!" Molly scolded.

The atmosphere for the Weasley's had never been happier, words were exchanged with everyone and soon Bill and Fleur had to be off. She was working in the morning, and Bill had to get a head on work.

Charlie was the next to leave, but promised to come back in a few days. He had to talk with his boss about taking some time off.

Percy was next to leave, assuring his mother that he would be home tonight after his date with Penelope Clearwater.

The twins had joked about hearing Percy going on a date, they were sure he wasn't interested in either male or females. His love for knowledge was enough for him, but it came as a pleasant surprise, especially to Mrs. Weasley, that he was going on a date.

Harry had explained in great detail how Ron and Hermione had helped destroy one of the last Horcruxes, and then he ended up being one of the few remaining Horcruxes. They exchanged details on how Fred saw only darkness, while Harry had lived a period of time within his head.

Ginny made sure to mention that Ron had been in the hospital prior to knowing about Fred, to visit Lavender Brown.

"Oh, th-th-that bi-bird fr-from the wed-wed-wedding?"

"Yeah, she's here. Greyback bit her during the final battle, and he's been keeping up with her," Ginny teased, as she bumped Ron with her shoulder.

Fred chuckled, "Go-go for it."

"We're friends—is that all you people ever talk about now?" Ron questioned.

"I can try to convince you that you need to go and take your N.E.W.T.S?" Hermione suggested. Harry and Ron quickly declined and tried to backtrack.

The time had passed quickly, and soon Arthur had to owl the Ministry and Molly needed to make dinner for everyone.

"I'll stay with George," Hermione said, while out in the hall with Molly.

"Are you sure? You need to eat and take care of yourself too. I know you feel responsible dear, but we're all here to do our part," she asked.

"I'm positive. I'll have Harry bring me my overnight bag, and a book, along with some left overs. I'll be fine, and so will George. Go enjoy the night with Mr. Weasley in your very clean house. I'll keep an eye out, and if anything happens, you'll get my patronus in an instant," Hermione assured her.

"I don't know if I can be away from him," Molly confessed.

"If that's it, then stay longer. You need your rest though. If you're worried that no one will be here to watch out for George and him, don't be worried. I'll stay the night if you don't mind," Hermione smiled.

"I'll go home for a bit, and bring your things myself," Molly decided.

"Perfect, I'm going to go grab some coffee though. Tell Fred and George I'll be back in five minutes—I'm sure they'll want some time to themselves," Hermione told Molly. They hugged and Hermione was off to hunt for a coffee machine.

She moved through the crowds of healers with ease, until she came across the cafeteria, and quickly paid the man behind the counter for two coffees and a cup of juice. Hermione grabbed a carrier, and made her way over to the vending machines. She purchased enough sweets that would last them through the night, then shoved them into her purse.

The hospital noise was slowly dying down, most of the families and patients were getting ready to eat or leave for home. The ward that Fred was in was completely silent, except for the laughs that were coming from his room.

"Knock. Knock," Hermione said softly, as she knocked on his door, and help up the two coffees and a juice, not wanting to interrupt them.

"You're back, great. I've had to use the loo for longer than I realized. Keep Gred here from boring himself to death," George said quickly, and escaped the room with his coffee in hand.

"He's going to see Angelina, isn't he?" Hermione questioned as she moved back around to Fred's good side.

"Yeah. He lo-loves her," Fred said.

"I can tell. Here," Hermione put a straw in his juice, and lifted it for Fred to take a sip from. "I don't know if you're supposed to have this, but it can be our little secret. It's just a bit of a pick-me-up."

"It's gr-gr-great," he replied.

Her hand laid on the bed, and she found herself moving her hand forward every so often until it was in his own, grasping it tightly.

They talked about everything, including his death. Though Hermione seemed to do most of the talking, filling him in on everything that he had missed. Hermione didn't mind being the one to talk, for once. She forced herself to tell him everything—every last detail about how she had witnessed him become buried under the rubble. She told him how she cried for him, and the way his brother wasn't the same—none of them were the same. She talked about hers and Harry's nightmares, and how she was back in Malfoy manner. She told him about his own funeral, and how she didn't know what happened after he was lowered into the ground, because Bill picked her up and took her to the house to sleep.

She told him about Ron and that they were good friends, how she wished that he would see sense and go after Lavender.

"Ro-Ro-Ron wi-will or I'll use th-the I-I-I al-al-almost di-di-died ca-ca-card. I'm wa-wi-wise no-now," he told her.

"Stop saying that," Hermione hissed, her hand squeezing his tightly.

"It-it's tr-tr-true," Fred retorted.

"It's not something to laugh about. You almost died! I—we lost you…" Hermione said solemnly. She looked around the room, hoping that George would be back soon.

He dropped her hand and lifted it up slowly until it was close to her face and he was able to press his palm against her cheek. She leaned her face into his palm, tears streaming down her face.

"He's co-co-coming ba-ba-back in a hou-hou-hour I-I thi-thi-think. I wa-wanted ti-ti-time," Fred confessed.

"Time? What could you need time for Weasley?" Hermione laughed softly, tears still falling down her cheeks. Fred leaned back before trying to move himself up higher, into a better sitting position. Hermione quickly moved behind him, and lifted the back of his bed so he was sitting up, almost like he was in a chair.

Fred swallowed visibly, "Yo-you—"

"Fred! Mum stopped by with the leftovers. I can't imagine you wanting to eat this garbage hospital food," George interrupted.

"Ou-out!" Fred demanded.

"Oi, I've got bad timing. I mean really bad timing, but food! You can talk to 'Mione later," George insisted.

"We can talk later," Hermione assured Fred. "Besides, doesn't food sound good right now?"

It didn't calm Fred in the least, and the frown on his face stayed the same. "Yo-you are lu-lu-lucky we-we-we're twi-twins," Fred said.

"I'm still the more charming twin too," George smiled and began to unpack the bag of food Molly had given him.

"I-I'm b-b-better l-looking," Fred quipped.

"Rubbish! We can't even ask 'Mione," George scowled. "She'd be too biased. Don't you know girls have a thing for injured war heroes?"

Hermione shook her head, pulled a sandwich out for herself, and a thermos of soup for Fred. Without thinking twice, she began feeding him with one hand, and eating her own sandwich with the other. She didn't ask him if he needed help, she would never do him the disservice of having to say yes. She protected his pride, and he would need other things done for him, things he would have to actually ask for. This was just one way she could let him keep his self-worth, and part of his dignity that didn't need to leave him. It was just one small detail in the mass plan for his recovery.


	5. Chapter 5

**Erised**  
Chapter Five

* * *

 

“Fred, come on. I know you can do it!” George encouraged.

Hermione, Ginny, and George sat around Fred in St. Mungo’s Hospital, and watched him work on squeezing George’s hand. His damaged hand had enough strength to move his fingers individually, but making a fist was a whole other problem.

It had been a few weeks of heavy and intensive physical therapy along with speech therapy that had helped him to today. There was only so much that the Healers could do to fix him with magic, and now it was time for him to heal the muggle way. Bodies were more complicated in healing then magic could sometimes keep up with.

“I-I I’m try-try-trying Gr-Gred!” Fred insisted. He gritted his teeth and his middle and pointer finger began to twitch slightly, and they slowly touched the back of George’s hand.

“You’re doing really good Fred, but just a little more. Try to move your pinky this time,” Ginny smiled.

Fred looked back at his hand, his brow furrowing in concentration. Magic had always come easily to him, and he knew nothing but hard work where magic was concerned. He perfected his magic over his time at Hogwarts, but now the simple movement of squeezing his own brother’s hand was difficult. The frustration he felt could not be put into words, but his friends could see it clearly across his face.

“Once we show the healer that you’ve been making progress with your hand we can begin your physical therapy for your legs,” Hermione assured him.

Fred had been angry and frustrated over the past few weeks of being out of the hospital. He was forced into a wheelchair until his strength returned. His mind remembered and willed his muscles to move like they once did, but there was no reaction.

His confinement to the chair and the need for help had driven Fred to pull away from his prankster self. It was rare to see him joking or even talking to anyone who wasn’t part of the Weasley family.

George spent his days taking care of his brother the best he could, but when his own frustration became too much the family took over. They gave him a break and divided up the work that was put into keeping Fred going.

“I c-can’t!” Fred shouted and slammed his good hand against the table, where they sat in the therapy wing. He bowed his head and shut his eyes tight, willing the injury to leave. “I j-just w-want to be n-n-normal.”

“Forge, you are normal,” George exclaimed.

“I’m no-not!” Fred Insisted. “I ne-need you all for ev-every-th-thing. Mu-mum ma-makes me b-break-fa-fast and y-you he-help m-me out of be-bed. B-bill helps m-me get in the sh-shower and yo-you have to he-help me sh-shower! Mi-mione h-helps f-feed me and I ca-can’t w-walk. I c-can’t e-e-even go-go to the ba-bathroom b-by my-myself!” Fred ranted.

“We’re doing what we can for you. You need it, so we’re helping. This is what families do,” Ginny swatted his shoulder and made a hissing sound.

“It’s n-not fa-fair to-to a-any of yo-you,” Fred sighed.

“What’s fair isn’t an issue. We’re just glad you’re alive,” Ginny pushed.

“Ha-half a-a-alive, I ca-can’t e-even be…“ Fred trailed off and pulled his hand from the table and placed it on his wheel chair. He pushed himself back from the table and began to push himself away and towards the door.

George’s jaw locked and made his own exit, walking down the opposite way from his twin.

“I’ll go talk to George and you can go after Fred. He seems to listen to you,” Ginny smiled and rose from her seat to go after her brother.

Hermione moved from her seat and began to walk down the hallway where Fred had wheeled himself. She wandered the empty halls until she found him in the hospitals court yard. Others were out as well with their loved ones and care takers. Fred was sat near a bench with his head leaned back, eyes closed, listening to the quiet buzz of conversation around him.

Hermione sat next to him silently, observing him. She watched his lips curve into a subtle smile when a few children ran past his chair, playing with one another. She could hear them weaving a story together as they played make believe.

“Fred?” she asked cautiously.

“I’m no-not r-re-ready to-to talk,” he replied.

“Then don’t,” Hermione sighed, “We love you. It’s not been easy for any of us to watch you struggle, but we know what it’s like without you. If this was all we had of you and we had to help you for the rest of our lives, we’d do it in a heartbeat.” Hermione tapped her fingers against her knees gently and looked around before looking to Fred once again, “We’ve been in a world without Fred Weasley and nothing was right. I like you alive…I, I like you here,” Hermione confessed. 

“I’m be-being s-selfish,” Fred said softly.

“No, you’re recovering. There’s a difference. I watched your brother bury his other half—he’d give you a thousand baths and help you go to the bathroom over having to do that again,” Hermione said. She began to wring her hands together with nervousness energy.

“I re-remember be-being no-normal. Its s-so m-much t-to-to adjust to.”

“You will get back to it. Sure it might not be the same, but nothing has been the same since the war. Alright? None of us came out unscathed. Some of it might be mental, but we aren’t the,” she put her fingers up to do air quotes, “ _normal_ people you remember either.”

“Ye-yeah?” he questioned.

“I know it,” Hermione sighed.

Fred and Hermione sat quietly in the garden, the sound of everyone else’s chatter taking up the silence that surrounded them. There was nothing else between them that needed to be said for that moment.

After a few hours had passed Fred wheeled himself closer to the bench. His hand shook as he moved to take Hermione’s hand in his own. His hand clasped over hers, her fingers sinking through his fingers until their hands were intertwined loosely. Fred began squeezing her hand softly with everything that he could muster, putting Hermione on full alert. She looked between him and their hands, a smile lighting up her face.

“Fred,” she yelled excitedly and brought her other hand down on top of his, her fingers tracing over the veins on his large hands.

“I-I j-just need t-time,” he squeezed her hand again.

 Hermione knew that her faith in him would never waiver. Fred always tried his hardest and put his soul into everything, and it would never happen right away with him. He wasn’t the type of wizard to do things on the first try, it took him time and practice mixed in with a lot of understanding and patience.

He was the type of guy who put everything into what he wanted, but it took a few tries before he got the results he wanted. It was always worth it though, to feel that accomplishment because of hard work. It was what helped him immensely with his potions at the shop.

Fred would squeeze her hand every few minutes, until he was able to hold her hand tightly for thirty seconds at a time. They were quick bursts of strength, but they were something.

They sat in the garden, hand in hand, for the rest of the day until George and Ginny came to retrieve them and bring them home to the burrow.

“Mum has something she wants to talk about,” George shrugged.

Hermione helped Fred Floo home and into their fireplace inside their old shed, according to Ginny’s directions. She pushed him out of the shed and towards the house.

“Hurry up! Mum has a bit of a surprise,” Ginny called out.

Hermione pushed him towards the burrow and saw that there were quite a few people inside, weaving their way in and out. She hoped that Fred would be up to see more people than just his family today. He had made progress with his physical therapy, and she prayed he would be in the mood to socialize with everyone.

Mrs. Weasley always had her heart in the right place, but a party could just be too much for him.

“Surprise!” A chorus rang out when they moved through the open door.

Fred’s head was spinning as he looked at all of the familiar faces that had come to his house.  Lee had joined them with Angelina and even Katie Bell. There were Gryffindor’s there from different years and even a few of the Hogwarts teachers.

They hadn’t told people until recently that Fred was alive, and Hermione suspected it was because the Weasleys still believed it was too good to be true. She couldn’t fault them, because deep down Hermione felt the same way. It also was a long story that most were intrigued about and it ended with them being in disbelief. Here before all of their eyes was the pale red head that they had missed.

Hermione held her breath every morning when she first saw him, when she watched him laugh, or even when he reached out to touch her. Her breath would get caught in her throat and the tears that were kept at bay threatened to spill over. Nothing in the world mattered except that someone who was so important in her life was back and safe.

She fought in the war to keep her loved ones safe and to create a better future. She watched other’s die and sacrifice themselves for a future they would never see, in hopes that it would be worth it in the end.

She leaned down and whispered in Fred’s ear, “You can do this, now go mingle. Try not to be so sour and enjoy the attention—this is your normal.”

Fred nodded and with one hand began to wheel himself towards his old school mates. The group had not seen each other since the end of their seventh year. Everyone had been scattered to the wind after, so there would be a lot of catching up to do.

Fred learned that Lee and Katie had begun dating quickly after the fall of Voldemort while Angelina and George had found their way together once again. It seemed as if everyone had found the one they needed in their life.

He could only look on with awe, because everyone was moving on. They were growing up and ready to leave the life they all had behind to make a new one.  The war was finally over for most of that and they accepted it, while others were still living it as if it was still going on. Fred was one of those people.

It was a new era for all of them. He observed the way his brother’s hand never left Angelina’s, but didn’t feel any resentment or jealousy. Instead his eyes searched through the crowd for a short bushy haired girl.

His eyes landed on her and she was sitting with Luna Lovegood, discussing something with a passion. Hermione’s hands moved quickly through the air as if they were illustrating all of her points for her. Fred’s imagination wandered and he wondered how it would feel to have her hand in his, but not for physical therapy. Her hand would rest in his just because that’s where her hand belonged; that’s where her hand felt right.

He wanted to be able to stand, be taller than her once again then pull her close and take her small hand in his own. He would pull her hand up to his chest and lean down and kiss her and that would be the simple end of it.

 Fred couldn’t take his eyes off her and the way she lit up when talking. She looked happy, and it was the happiest that he had seen her in a long time. The last smile he could remember was the day they left in their seventh year.

They had flown on their brooms through the halls of Hogwarts and relieved the other students of their tests. Fred and George had watched all of the students rush from the great hall to watch their fireworks. In the crowd he saw Hermione shaking her head with a smile on her face, clapping for them and soon cheering them on.

Fred imagined it was the first time that his magic had made her smile instead of scold them.

He didn’t mind when she scolded him though. Her hair seemed to frizz up more and her voice would raise up high. She wasn’t afraid to yell at him and stick up for what she believed in, and it only made him admire her more.

She had Gryffindor courage when it came to standing up to her friends and even the people who claimed her as family.

He was lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice his eldest brother Bill walk up next to him with two butterbeer’s in his hands. Bill looked between Fred and Hermione and he began to grin.

“If you stare any harder your good eye will come out,” Bill interrupted him.

Fred jumped at the sound of his voice and looked up at his brother, “I-I’m no-not sta-sta-staring,” Fred insisted.

“If you’re not staring then I don’t have scars on my face,” Bill said causally. “It’s okay to let yourself fall in love. If anything it heals you the fastest. Love—that is. I wasn’t half the man I wanted to be when I met Fleur.”

“Yo-you were whole.”

“For a moment I was and then I got this pretty little present,” Bill tapped the side of his face, “I wanted to die for the longest time after. Thought I wasn’t human anymore—wasn’t good enough—and she saved me.”

“I ca-can’t sa-save h-her b-ba-back,” Fred sighed.

Bill laughed loudly, catching a few other party goers’ attention.

“Did you ever think she doesn’t need saving? Just someone to be there for her while she saves herself?” Bill posed the question and handed Fred a butter beer in his good hand, before walking off to go look for Fleur.

Fred stayed still with his butter beer in hand, contemplating what his brother had told him. Hermione was the most capable witch that he knew, but even strong people needed a safety net as well. Maybe Hermione didn’t need to be saved from everything she had been through, but it didn’t mean that he wouldn’t try.

He would have to try, because girls like Hermione Granger deserved that. They deserved to be promised the stars and moon, then have them delivered on a silver platter.

The conversation died down around him and his attention was only on her. He observed the way her hair moved as she turned her head back and forth and the way her teeth showed when she smiled. Her dimples became pronounced while she grinned, then she was looking at him.

A light tint of red painted her cheeks and she looked down at her lap, her curls falling in front of her face. Then she was looking at him once again.

He could imagine seeing that look every day and life would be okay.

Fred had a lot of work to do in the meantime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm back. I've gotten a lot of great comments and then not so many great ones who were plain rude asking when this would be updated. I had a lot of things going on in my life. that comes before this. I'm not a writing machine behind my penname. I'm a person.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing, because it belongs to JKR. I'm just dabbling in her world and playing with her characters that she's created. I also do not own the character Tasmin Blight. She is a real historical figure, for the purpose of the magic behind Erised, that has been introduced into the HP verse. 
> 
> Beta'd by burrsquee on tumblr.com


End file.
